On Pins and Needles: Sierra Fox, Book 3 (13 page)

“As ready as I’m ever going to be.” He looked about as happy as I did to be leaving the house so we could get knee-deep involved in something that had nothing to do with us.
 

“Partner in crime, huh?” I teased as soon as we hit the corridor. “Do we need to buy matching outfits and start moonlighting as villains?”

Papan slapped me on the ass. “Would you prefer I referred to you as the foxiest woman I’ve ever known?”

I opened the front door. “Papan, you’re much too naughty.”

He grabbed me around the waist and pulled me close enough to kiss the side of my neck. I couldn’t help but giggle like a giddy school girl.

As we headed for the white Holden Commodore VE waiting at the curb, I noticed Gareth was staring out the passenger side window. How long had he been watching us? I had to admit, carrying on like this when we were going to a crime scene probably wasn’t proper protocol, but I refused to feel bad about having a good laugh in spite of all the crappy things swamping my life.

I met his eye as I opened the back passenger side door. “Hope you don’t mind if I bring backup.”

“I’m not going to kidnap you,” he said, and looked annoyed.

What an odd thing to say.
“Of course not, but Papan’s a private investigator and might come in handy.” I jumped into the backseat and slid along until I was sitting behind Gareth.
 

Papan climbed in beside me and closed the door.

“This is Constable Gareth Crewe,” I said. “And this is Jason Papan.”

 
They exchanged nods and a quick handshake.

“Where are we going?” I asked once we were both belted up and on the road.

“The body was found in a back alleyway off George Street,” he answered, meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror.

I placed my hand on the seat over Papan’s. He entwined his fingers with mine and I was suddenly very glad that he’d invited himself along on this morbid outing. The last thing I wanted to see right now was a corpse, but if the spirit was hanging around I might be able to give the constable answers he didn’t already have.

“Hope you don’t mind me asking, what makes you think this might be paranormal in nature?” Papan said.

Gareth met my gaze in the mirror again, but looked away quickly. “The girl was found with identical marks on the side of her neck. It could’ve been made by some sort of weapon or tool, but I think it looks too precise.”

“So you think she was bitten?” he asked without any condescension in his voice.

Gareth shrugged. “That’s why I’d like Sierra to take a look. Though, I’m sure that as soon as you both see the corpse, you’ll know exactly why I don’t think this is an average murder.”

“Personally, I don’t believe there’s ever anything average about murder,” I said.
 

“You’re right about that,” Gareth agreed.

With the amount of ghosts I’d seen resulting from violent murders—and most of them done at the hands of fellow humans, by someone the victim knew—I’d learned to never take it lightly. When a person was killed, their pain and suffering didn’t end at the time of death. Murder victims usually became aimlessly lost spirits because so much of their energy lingered behind. They craved contact and couldn’t comprehend why others didn’t interact with them. It wasn’t until they actually realized they were dead that they turned all their confusion into violence.
 

It becomes an endless cycle of violence.
And I’d usually end up being the one trying to track and imprison these former victims so they could be judged and stop causing chaos.
 

Things didn’t always happen that way, but most of the time they did.

We drove the rest of the way in silence, and I stared out the window while enjoying Papan’s warm hand in mine. I could certainly get used to having him by my side
all
the time, which made me feel a little needy. As if that was a green light for a phone call, his phone started to ring. He pulled it out from his pocket, looked at the screen and shut it off.

It had to be Vixen. What the hell was up with her? Why did she keep pestering him when everyone was telling her the same thing? Whatever her problem was, I agreed with Papan. The sooner the next full moon cycle got here, the quicker we’d be able to see if being bitten by the demented canine affected her.

According to my research, which I’d scribbled in my trusty grimoire, the
Perro Negro
—or black dog—was a shape-shifting sorcerer who could change from man to canine whenever he wanted. Those he bit were contagious mutts, and mutts didn’t get any of his dark magic. They became infected by lycanthropy and cursed with shifting for a week in each moon cycle, similar to werewolves. Our main concern with Vixen’s condition was that Mauricio hadn’t been an average black dog. With the
Obscurus
demonic influence he carried, who knew how it would affect her?

“Here we are.” Gareth parked the car at the Pitt Street end of the alleyway connecting to George Street. I’d walked down this narrow path many times, especially when I was a kid and would come to the city to watch movies with the few friends I had. Of course, all of that stopped when I was recruited by the Council.

Papan opened the door on his side and I did the same on mine. I headed for Gareth, who was already waiting for us in front of the police tape.

“This isn’t going to be pretty,” the police officer said.

“I can handle it,” I whispered. I might not want to be here right now, between the tall buildings on either side, but I wasn’t new to this. Barrier tape had been set up at both ends, with a police officer standing in front of each to keep the gawking pedestrians and news crews away.
 

My stomach lurched when we ducked under the blue-and-white police tape, which was the same as what had covered the door to Benita’s office. The sight of her mauled body flashed inside my brain, and I paused.
 

“Hey, are you okay?” Papan asked, reaching out for my hand but dropping it before making contact.
 

I nodded slowly. “Yeah, I just had a flashback, that’s all.” I was glad he didn’t ask any more than that, because as far as Gareth knew, I hadn’t seen Benita—just the huge dog who attacked her.

Several police officers were scattered around the cordoned off area. All in uniforms and either speaking to each other or taking statements from witnesses.

I shifted my focus away from them and instead released a heavy breath before following Gareth. The dead body wasn’t completely covered. I could already see it from here, and two plain clothes men—probably detectives—stood to the side, chatting.

“Take a look, and tell me if you see anything that sparks off—”

That was all I heard before my lungs filled with ice and I was forced to suck in a quick breath. I kept my feet anchored to the dirty asphalt, determined not to fall on my face. Being forced into a spirit’s zone is never fun and always makes me feel like I’m about to freeze, but I recover quicker than most.

“What’s going on? I have to get home. My mum’s going to kill me,” a soft female voice said in front of me.

I looked up and found a tall, plump girl staring at me. Her hair was a dirty shade of blonde and matted with blood, while her features were corpse-pale. The jeans and jacket she was wearing were both sullied and torn. She looked like a horror movie character that had been chased by a machete-wielding psycho, and I couldn’t help but feel my pulse quicken. I hated running into murder victims because of this. Not being sure of what had happened always made them appear grotesque, instead of projecting their last living image.

My limbs felt cold and my breath misted in front of me. “It’s okay. You need to calm down.” And I needed to take my own advice because my heart was pounding hard and fast enough to echo in my ears. My chest constricted when I tried to take another breath. The cold is the hardest thing to get used to.

She looked confused, and stepped closer. “Who are you?” The red in her hair wasn’t just blood—there were bits of skull and brain matter tangled in it.

 
I hadn’t had a close enough look at the corpse because she’d dragged me in so quickly, but if a vampire had attacked her, why was her head bashed in?

“I’m a spook catcher.” One thing I’d learned during my years of doing this was that spirits needed to know exactly what was going on right away. No point in prolonging the inevitable and bullshitting them so they wouldn’t trust or believe anything I said.

Her blue eyes widened. “No.” She looked down at the ground, probably spotting her dead shell for the first time. Disorientation was quite common with trauma ghosts. “That means I’m…dead.”

“I’m sorry.” I really was. No one should have to go through this. “What happened to you?”

She shook her head. “No…”

“Listen, you need to focus.” I tried to get her attention back before I lost her or she ran away. “What’s your name?”

“Rima,” she whispered. “Rima McNamara.”

“Okay Rima, do you remember what happened?” How had this young girl ended up dead and discarded in a backstreet?

Rima pressed a hand to the side of her head and her demeanor changed. “I was at a club, and I met this cute guy. I couldn’t believe he was actually interested in me. The boys at school usually keep their distance from me, so I was excited to meet him.”

Ah,
the
cute guy—the stranger who hid behind his good looks to prey on vulnerability. I wasn’t judging her. She hadn’t been the first, and wouldn’t be the last, to get caught up in these circumstances. All it took was one wrong decision.

“Do you remember his name?”

“Jay, he said his name was Jay.” Her eyes clouded over, but a small smile quirked the edges of her mouth. “He was so cute, and older. I thought I was the luckiest girl in the world when he asked me if I wanted to go for a walk. But when we took a turn into the alley, something happened. He was no longer cute, and someone else pushed me from behind… I don’t remember what happened after that.”

“Do you remember being bitten?”

She trailed a hand up to her neck, and as she moved her hair swayed to the side and I noticed the neat pin-pricks. “I was bitten? I don’t remember that either.”

I wasn’t surprised. Trauma of any kind could force amnesia. “You need to listen to me, Rima. Do you see the light?”

“No!” she snapped. “I don’t want to go to the light. I need to get home before my mum gets upset.”

“You know the truth. The police will tell your mother what happened—”

“She’s going to be so mad. I told her I was staying over at my friend’s place. She didn’t know we were going clubbing.”

“She won’t be angry.” She’d probably be sad and forever carry the guilt of not trying harder to find out what her daughter was up to. She would probably also never find out how Rima really died, because the vampire angle would be covered up.

“I know she will. Mum hated clubs!”

“Listen to me, you need to turn around and face the light.
Go
towards it, don’t ignore it.” Trauma spirits were better off moving on before they had the chance to turn violent.

“I won’t!” She opened her mouth and it widened like some sort of monster. She screamed like a banshee, causing my hair to sway in front of my face.
 

The girl rushed at me, went right through me, and vanished.
 

The instant chill of having her body pass through mine made me miss a step, but I whirled around in time to see her reappear, running towards Pitt Street.

I took a step but she disappeared around the corner. A deafening shriek echoed into the hollow alley. My breath caught in my throat when I noticed the end of a tail flash around that same corner. What the hell was that?

Slipping out of the ghost’s zone made me stumble forward, but Papan was there to keep me from falling to my knees. I coughed too many times while trying to get control of my limbs.
 

I have to follow her
.

“What’s wrong?” Gareth asked, stepping closer.

“I need…”

“She’s just coming out of it, that’s all.” Papan held on tight, massaging my back. “She’s all right, just needs a moment to collect herself.”
 

“Why was she frozen like that?”

“I’ve already told you, it’s what she does.” Papan’s voice rumbled against my ear.

I couldn’t get a word out, but it was funny how much he actually knew. I certainly hadn’t told him anything, so I could only assume it was from his own experience or research. Still, I was glad to have him catch my fall.

It took me a few minutes to regain full control of my senses and limbs, but when I did, Papan dropped his grip on me. So I raced down the alley. Even knowing it was too late wasn’t going to stop me.

“Fox!” Papan called behind me, but I didn’t stop until I reached the barrier tape.

I peered around the corner and found nothing but the slow movement of traffic, and a police officer looking at me with a strange expression on his face. I couldn’t blame him. I probably came across like a crazed, lost person trying to find a needle in a haystack. But I didn’t care because I knew what I’d seen. Rima had disappeared around this corner, and I was pretty sure that someone—or
something
—summoned her spirit before I could convince her to move on.